THE EZLN IS NOT ANARCHIST: Or Struggles at the Margins and Revolutionary Solidarity

In a future revolutionary period the most subtle and most dangerous
defenders
of capitalism will not be the people shouting pro-capitalist and
pro-statist
slogans, but those who have understood the possible point of total
rupture.
Far from eulogizing TV commercials and social submission, they will
propose
to change life…but to that end, call for building a true democratic
power
first. If they succeed in dominating the situation, the creation of
this
new political form will use up people’s energy, fritter away radical
aspirations and, with the means becoming the end, will once again turn
revolution into an ideology.
—Gilles Dauve

The current restructuring of capital and its global expansion
intrudes
to an ever greater extent in to the lives of those on its margins.
Peasants
and indigenous people in non-Western, so-called “third world” nations,
who have maintained some level of control over their subsistence up to
now, are finding themselves forced to leave their lands or conform
their
activities to the needs of the world capitalist market simply to
survive.
It is, therefore, not surprising that movements of resistance against
the various aspects of capitalist intrusion have arisen among these
people
in many parts of the world.

In previous issues of Willful Disobedience, I have written about the
West Papua Freedom Movement (OPM). This movement of the indigenous
people
West Papua, many of whom continue to live as they did for centuries
before
any colonial powers arrived, against their Indonesian rulers is quite
clear about refusing “modern life”—that is, the state, capital and
everything
that industrial civilization imposes. Or as they have said in
communiqués:
“We want to be left alone!” But this is the one thing that capital and
the state will never grant. Although the OPM has sent delegates to
demand
talks with the Indonesian government, the West Papuans are increasingly
aware of the futility of such negotiations. Recent communiqués talk
increasingly
of fighting to the death if necessary. After all, succumbing to the
intrusion
of capital would mean their spiritual death in any case. Their clarity
about what they do not want has probably played an important part in
guaranteeing that this movement, though armed, has never developed a
separated military body, but rather has fought using methods
traditional
to their cultures. On the other hand, they have not completely escaped
the ideology of nationalism, or at least its use in an attempt to have
some credibility before world opinion. Still, this movement stands for
having very few illusions about what the civilized social order and its
institutions have to offer.

Another struggle at the farthest fringes of capitalist expansion is
that of the people of Bougainville, an island about five miles west of
the Solomon Islands, which has been under the rule of Papua New Guinea
(not to be mistaken for West Papua) since 1975. The people of this
island
were pushed to revolt when CRA, an Australian subsidiary of Rio Tinto
Zinc, installed a copper mine, causing hundreds of locals to lose their
homes, lands and fishing rights, as well as destroying much of the
jungle.
The mine expanded until it was a half kilometer deep and seven
kilometers
in diameter. Protests, petitions and demands for compensation proved
ineffective. So in 1988, a handful of islanders stole explosives from
the mining company and began to destroy its structures and machinery.
When the Papua New Guinea (PNG) government sent in its armed forces,
the Bougainville Revolutionary Army (BRA) was formed to battle the PNG
military and their Australian advisers. Armed only with homemade guns,
dealing with a total blockade of the island by Australian boats and
helicopters
and largely ignored by the outside world, the people of Bougainville
have nearly achieved autonomy. A peace process began in 1997 and those
PNG soldiers still on the island have been confined to their barracks.
An independent governing authority has begun to develop—certainly to
give credibility in the eyes of the states of the world to an
autonomous
Bougainville—and this will likely have a negative effect on the
reconstructing
of the community and the environment, making it easier for Bougainville
to be drawn into the world economic order. As was said in Terra
Selvaggio:
“The history of rebellion is much too full of liberators who transform
themselves into jailers and radicals who ‘forget’ their programs of
social
change once they’ve seized power.” Nonetheless, the small dimensions
of the island combined with the absence of any urban centers makes the
process of construction of state power difficult. And the determination
of the people not to allow the mine to reopen is their best protection
against the expansion of capital on the island.

While the indigenous people of West Papua and Bougainville have not
really yet been integrated in to the capitalist market at all—giving
them certain advantages both in terms of clarity about what they have
to lose and in terms of knowledge of the still mostly wild terrain on
which they fight—other indigenous people and small-holding peasants who
were already involved in the market economy to some extent, but have
maintained some real control over their subsistence, are now seeing
this
last bit of self-determination eaten away and are responding.

In India, groups of peasants have organized to attack genetically
engineered crops. Recognizing the genetic engineering of seeds and the
and the patenting of genetic structures as methods for finalizing the
control of multi-national corporations over food production, even on
the subsistence scale, these groups have attacked GMO fields and the
property of corporations like Monsanto. But by no means do these groups
have a clear critique of capitalism or the state. So alongside these
direct attacks, the groups also petition the Indian state to make laws
protecting them and preserving their place within the present social
order. Their movement in its present form remains a movement for
anti-global
reform.

In India, groups of peasants have organized to attack genetically
engineered crops. Recognizing the genetic engineering of seeds and the
and the patenting of genetic structures as methods for finalizing the
control of multi-national corporations over food production, even on
the subsistence scale, these groups have attacked GMO fields and the
property of corporations like Monsanto. But by no means do these groups
have a clear critique of capitalism or the state. So alongside these
direct attacks, the groups also petition the Indian state to make laws
protecting them and preserving their place within the present social
order. Their movement in its present form remains a movement for
anti-global
reform.

In India, groups of peasants have organized to attack genetically
engineered crops. Recognizing the genetic engineering of seeds and the
and the patenting of genetic structures as methods for finalizing the
control of multi-national corporations over food production, even on
the subsistence scale, these groups have attacked GMO fields and the
property of corporations like Monsanto. But by no means do these groups
have a clear critique of capitalism or the state. So alongside these
direct attacks, the groups also petition the Indian state to make laws
protecting them and preserving their place within the present social
order. Their movement in its present form remains a movement for
anti-global
reform.

In India, groups of peasants have organized to attack genetically
engineered crops. Recognizing the genetic engineering of seeds and the
and the patenting of genetic structures as methods for finalizing the
control of multi-national corporations over food production, even on
the subsistence scale, these groups have attacked GMO fields and the
property of corporations like Monsanto. But by no means do these groups
have a clear critique of capitalism or the state. So alongside these
direct attacks, the groups also petition the Indian state to make laws
protecting them and preserving their place within the present social
order. Their movement in its present form remains a movement for
anti-global
reform.

Probably the best known of the indigenous struggles is the one
happening
in Chiapas, Mexico. This struggle came into the light of day with the
uprising of January 1, 1994. The strength of the insurrection, the
preciseness
of its targets and the general situation from which it arose aroused
immediate sympathy among leftists, progressives, revolutionaries and
anarchists throughout the world. The uprising was led by the Zapatista
Army for National Liberation (EZLN). The sympathy for this struggle is
understandable as is the desire to act in solidarity with the
indigenous
people of Chiapas. What is not, from an anarchist perspective, is the
mostly uncritical support for the EZLN. The EZLN has not hidden their
agenda. Their aims are clear already in the declaration of war that
they
issued at the time of the 1994 uprising, and not only are those aims
not anarchist; they are not even revolutionary. In this declaration,
nationalist language reinforced the implications of the army’s name.
Stating: “We are the inheritors of the true builders of our nation”,
they go on to call upon the constitutional right of the people to
“alter
or modify their form of government”. They speak repeatedly of the
“right
to freely and democratically elect political representatives” and
“administrative
authorities”. And the goals for which they struggle are “work, land,
housing , food, health care, education, independence, freedom,
democracy,
justice and peace”. In other words nothing concrete that could not be
provided by capitalism. Nothing in any later statement from this
prolific
organization has changed this fundamentally reformist program. Instead
the EZLN calls for dialogue and negotiation, declaring their
willingness
to accept signs of good faith from the Mexican government. Thus, they
send out calls to the legislature of Mexico, even inviting members of
this body to participate in the EZLN march to the capital, the purpose
of which is to call on the government to enforce the San Andres peace
accords worked out by Cocopa, a legislative committee in 1995. So we
see, regardless of the fact that they are armed and masked, the EZLN
is a reformist organization. They claim to be in the service of the
indigenous
people of Chiapas (much as Mao’s army claimed to be in the service of
the peasants and workers of China before Mao came to power), but they
remain a specialized military organization separate from the people,
not the people armed. They have made themselves the public spokespeople
for the struggle in Chiapas and have channeled it into reformist
demands
and appeals to nationalism and democracy. There are reasons why the
EZLN
has become the darling of the anti-globalization movement: its rhetoric
and its aims present no threat to those elements in this movement who
merely seek more national and local control of capitalism.

Of course, the social struggles of exploited and oppressed people
cannot be expected to conform to some abstract anarchist ideal. These
struggles arise in particular situations, sparked by specific events.
The question of revolutionary solidarity in these struggles is,
therefore,
the question of how to intervene in a way that is fitting with one’s
aims, in a way that moves one’s revolutionary anarchist project
forward.
But in order to do this, one must have clear aims and a clear concept
of one’s project. In other words, one must be pursuing one’s own daily
struggle against the present reality with lucidity and determination.
Uncritical support of any of the struggles described above is
indicative
of a lack of clarity about what an anarchist revolutionary project
might
be, and such support is most certainly not revolutionary solidarity.
Each of our struggles springs from our own lives and our own
experiences
of domination and exploitation. When we go into these battles with full
awareness of the nature of the state and capital, of the institutions
by which this civilization controls our existence, it becomes obvious
that only certain methods and practices can lead toward the end we
desire.
With this knowledge, we can clarify our own projects and make our
awareness
of the struggles around the world into a tool for honing our own
struggle
against the present social order. Revolutionary solidarity is precisely
fighting against the totality of an existence based on exploitation,
domination and alienation wherever one finds oneself. In this light,
revolutionary solidarity needs to take up the weapon of unflinching,
merciless critique of all reformist, nationalist, hierarchical,
authoritarian,
democratic or class collaborationist tendencies that could undermine
the autonomy and self-activity of those in struggle and channel the
struggle
into negotiation and compromise with the present order. This critique
must be based in a lucid conception of the world we must destroy and
the means necessary to accomplish this destruction.